


Ever since New York (One-Shot)

by MukeSinner



Series: Album One-Shots (H&L) [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: EverSinceNewYork, Fourth part, Harry Styles is in pain, M/M, Multi, Multiple part story, SlowlyGrowingPlot, larry - Freeform, larry broke up, mentions of drug use, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 05:42:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15136373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MukeSinner/pseuds/MukeSinner
Summary: Harry is trying to come to terms with his breakup with Louis. He doesn't accept the fact that Louis is willing to throw everything away, wants an honest answer as to why it ended and he isn't sure he is going to get a straight answer. So he is left to deal with it by himself.





	Ever since New York (One-Shot)

**Author's Note:**

> This is part four of my ever growing collection. I have a plot that is slowly starting to show, and hope that you all enjoy what I have written so far. These are purely fiction, and some lyrics are cut from the story just to shorten it a bit. Enjoy! And let me know your thoughts in the comments below?

Harry was ansty, unable to keep still as he swayed back and forth on the stage before he he moved from foot to foot, body never once coming to a halt because he was afraid if he stopped moving, everything would finally catch up to him and he wouldn’t be able to run any longer, to hide away and pretend like he hadn’t spent the entire night crying, hugging Louis’ pillow to his chest like it was his life line and in some sad, pitiful way, it was. It was the only thing that still smelt like him, and if he placed it just right with a few pillows joined with it, it almost felt like Louis was right next to time.

It was pathetic, but was the only thing that finally let Harry slip into unconsciousness at five o’clock this morning, only to be woken an hour later by his entire body seizing as wave after wave washed over him, filling his lungs with water and seeping into his eyes, nose and ears until he was left feeling nothing but the hollow emptiness the water seemed to fill. He couldn’t bear it, couldn’t even close his eyes because images of Louis stained his eyelids and he hasn’t had a moment of peace since he first heard that damned song on the radio.

It didn’t take him long to realize who Louis was talking about, and he fumbled with shaking hands to unlock his phone and dial the number he had rejected twelve times already. He couldn’t remember why he had, either, just that he wasn’t in the mood to talk to him until he  _heard_  Louis saying his goodbye through the staticy radio, instead of in person. “Louis? Please tell me this new song isn’t what I think it is,” he had sounded so broken, so needy as he desperately tried to cling on to the last little rope of hope that it was just some song to promote his new album, and not, in fact, a way of Louis saying it was ending. Harry hadn’t heard it before that day, either.

_Tell me something, tell me something_

_You don't know nothing, just pretend you do_

_I need something, tell me something new_

Despite the fact that he was zoned out and drugged out of his mind, pupils blown to the point the green of his eyes were only a small ring around black, his voice still came out clear and strong. He had finally caved and called Zayn, who easily had him hooked up only an hour later with some pill that would relax Harry and make things more bearable, which translated to numb. He was so fucking numb and today was the first day in a long time that he just didn’t give a shit anymore, about anything or anyone.

Louis had refused to give him a straight answer over the phone, so Harry agreed to meet him at his home in L.A, since Harry had been close anyway. The memories following him arriving there were muddled and water clogged, too far beneath the pills to really be resurface but he remembers screaming, and throwing a vase he had bought for Louis that had once been filled with blue roses, light blue to be exact, because they were the closest flower to Louis’ eye color that Harry could find. But now the plants were shriveled up and dead, dry and crumbling into nothing when the vase hit into the wall and shattered into a million pieces. He didn’t beg Louis to stay, didn’t cry even though he felt like he was dying, he just scream until his voice gave out and his knees gave way.

He crumpled into a heaving mess of the floor, stomach churning and threatening to make all the sparse contents in his stomach resurface, but he wouldn’t give Louis the satisfaction. So he gave Louis the extra key to his home, the one that used to be sparsely used but now had evidence someone was residing here, and left. He didn’t ask for the key to his own home back, the small hope that Louis would return and use the key budding in his chest and refusing to be squashed down even though he knew it was a futile hope.

_Choose your words 'cause there's no antidote_

_For this curse_

_Oh, what's it waiting for?_

_Must this hurt you just before you go?_

He had known the breakup was coming, felt it months ago, but he still pretended nothing was wrong and that Louis just needed time. So when it actually came, and he was forced to accept Louis was actually gone and it was for good this time, no extended dates or promises of being back, he couldn’t make himself. Couldn’t make his brain wrap around the fact that Louis had actually broke up with him, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He wanted to live in a bubble, where nothing could touch him and he didn’t hear anything that he didn’t want to. Life would be so much simpler, so much easier to bear as he got to pick and choose what pain he dealt with and felt.

He didn’t know if Louis was even hurt or bothered with it, didn’t have all the details and didn’t get a straight answer on  _why_  it was ending. Fuck, he didn’t even know what would happen to Freddie, the baby he didn’t want but grew to love and has spent every day since watching as he grew and looked more and more like Louis with each passing day. He was probably getting taken away from him, too, Louis would make sure Harry had nothing left of him but the videos on youtube and the memories he wanted to forget.

“ _I love you, Harry, you know I do. We’ve just split apart, and I think we need to find out who we are, seperately. I still want to be in your life, and I will always support you, so don’t you for a second believe this is a goodbye. This is just an ending to something fantastic, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you, and that I drug it out this long. I hope you can forgive me, one day, and that you will realize this will benefit us both. Take care, Harry.”_ He had received the message a few minutes before going on stage, eyes trying to adjust to the brightly lit phone so he could read the blurred letters on the screen. There was no Haz, Hazza, or pet name and that broke his heart more than it did when he closed out of the app and came face to face with Louis, in red sweatpants sleeping on the bed with his hair a mess, blankets everywhere and a sleepy smile curling his pink lips.  _He needed to change his lock screen._

_Oh, tell me something I don't already know_

_Oh, tell me something I don't already know_

He knew he was a fuck up, knew he was to blame in their relationship failing too but he didn’t deserve to have a fucking song written about him, bringing to light all his flaws. Louis was to blame, too, more so than Harry and the man never once shoved that in his face. He never made him feel like shit because he was out drinking, never told him about all the nights he lied awake, feeling so fucking lonely and wishing Louis was here only to get a notification from some online gossip page that had pictures of Louis and some random chick glued to the page with the headline some fucked up shit. He wasn’t sure if the boy knew that he knew he was sleeping outside the relationship.

Eyes closing as he let the music wash over him, Harry swayed a bit and tapped his foot, trying to will away the quiver in his voice that had appeared when he seen a fan in the crowd, a rainbow flag with ‘Larry’ sprawled across it hanging from their fingers. They looked so proud to be holding it, even prouder that he noticed it, but was completely oblivious to the fact that it felt like a literal punch to the gut, that the thing they were proudly supporting and flaunting wasn’t as strong as they thought and had come to an end. Should he tell them, finally come out and crush everything they have fought hard for for years, unknowingly getting all the boys support that was in One direction and the support of those who knew them. Or should he let them live in the wonderland he once had the opportunity to peak at, never being aloud to touch in fear they would realize he was in fact Harry Styles on kik, or wattpad or tumblr, and not just some imposter.

_Brooklyn saw me, empty at the news_

_There's no water inside this swimming pool_

_Almost over, had enough from you_

The lyrics seemed to carry him away, to make the room around him disappear. The fans were gone, the seats and he was suddenly in a hotel room, Louis lying down on the bed with nothing but his boxers covering his body. He was smiling that soft, secretive smile as he crooked a finger at Harry, never having to use words to ask for something they both wanted. They went to Brooklyn for their second anniversary, wanted some time away from everyone and everything even if they did love the attention. But being able to walk around without having to hide, without being afraid someone would catch you at any moment and unravel everything they had worked hard to hide to keep everyone happy, was nice.

They were able to enjoy one another for the entire weekend, never had to leave the room because as long as they were there with each other, they had all they needed. The swimming pool that their room looked out on had been drained, the weather too cold for the guests to enjoy the outdoor pool, and for the first time Harry could relate to an empty hole in the ground. He was a shell, nothing left in him to offer because Louis had taken everything.

He deserved nothing, didn’t deserve the tears Harry wasted on him. He willingly threw away seven years because he wanted to have fun, hiding behind the excuse that they had changed and needed to find themselves. Harry gave him five months, longer than that truthfully, but apparently that wasn’t long enough, and Louis didn’t need him for support like Harry needed him. He had his fill of the curly haired boy, got full of him before he moved on to the next person and ditched Harry and everything they had together.  _Did it even mean anything to him?_

_And I've been praying, I never did before_

_Understand I'm talking to the walls_

_I've been praying ever since New York_

Harry had spent the early hours of the morning screaming, crying, yelling at god and everything else that would listen because he believed it was unfair. So fucking unfair that he was left with a bleeding heart and aching body while Louis was no doubt out having fun, drinking his pain away and forgetting all about Harry. He had never prayed, didn’t believe in it, but he was certain he would have prayed to his fucking shoes if it meant he got Louis back, or the pain he was feeling was lessened or just completely taken away. But he didn’t hate Louis, couldn’t. He loved him, feared he always would.

When the deliria hit from hours of no sleep, Harry and the wall had came to the conclusion that Louis was selfish, and had never actually cared about him. If he did, he wouldn’t have left, wouldn’t have said everything he did and would have fucking stayed and fought for Harry like he promised he always would. And the wall told Harry he didn’t want to forget the pain he was feeling, that was rooted deep in his bones, because then he would be forgetting that he had actually loved Louis, and that their love wasn’t some quick story that had meant nothing to him and had just been a way to pass time. He had put his heart and soul into their relationship, and in the end, he was the one who had been fucked over.

_Oh, tell me something I don't already know_

_Oh, tell me something I don't already know_

_Oh, tell me something I don't already know_

_Oh, tell me something I don't already know_

Liam couldn’t give Harry a reason, either. Neither could Niall. The only thing they offered him was some words of comfort, but they did nothing to ease or sooth anything he felt. They didn’t understand why Louis had done what he had, had thought that Larry would always be together and Harry was certain Niall was more crushed than he was when he had fed him the news through breathy sobs and unattractive blubbering.

They just fed him the same thing that Louis did, that maybe they needed to move on and find out who they were meant to be in their adult lives. It wasn’t like Harry had devoted his teenage years to Louis or anything, the years he was meant to go out and party and fuck away all his worries. He wanted someone to tell him the truth, something he didn’t already know. He knew he was blind to a lot of things in their relationship, preferred it that way, so maybe he had missed that first hiccup they had and never noticed the stumbled footsteps that followed afterwards.

_Tell me something, tell me something_

_You don't know nothing, just pretend you do_

_Tell me something just before you go_

Louis liked to pretend he was some grown ass adult who knew all there was to know about the world, but he didn’t. He knew as much about it as he did when Harry had first met him those eight years ago, which was nothing, or close to nothing. He didn’t have a key to all the secrets, and certainly didn’t know where to find them because he spent his life wandering around with blind eyes. Harry wished more than anything that this was just some dream, and that he would wake up tomorrow morning as a fresh eyed, innocent sixteen year old who didn’t know all the pain the world harbored, who didn’t know what heartbreak felt like and how losing someone felt like you’d lost a piece of yourself as well.

He wish everything would just go away like the music did as the last note rang out, loud and clear. For a moment the arena was quiet, not a sound to be heard besides his heavy breathing. But then claps filled the silence, and when he opened his eyes he was greeted with hundreds of smiling faces. His pain brought them so much happiness, and for a second, even if it was just for one small second, he forgot about all his own problems and bowed. They made him happy, and in the end he would always have them, and his songs.

_We haven't spoke since you went away_

_Comfortable silence is so overrated_

_Why won't you ever be the first one to break?_

_Even the phone misses your call, by the way_


End file.
